


All I Need

by makeitmine



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Internet Dating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1263325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makeitmine/pseuds/makeitmine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Santana signs Kurt up for a singles website, he’s not happy. It’s only been a year since his husband’s unexpected passing, there’s no way he’s ready to date again. But Kurt gives in and soon meets B, a charming pediatrician in Brooklyn that finds his way into Kurt's heart more and more with each email and chat. Everything is perfect until the day before their first date when B finally sends Kurt his photo, and he comes face to face with the person who shattered his heart twelve years ago. Can he reconcile his pent-up emotions regarding Blaine and let his heart find his way back to the first person who made him feel whole?<br/>Warnings: Mentions of character deaths (Finn and OC)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Need

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was definitely a process! Months of work for your enjoyment, and I really hope you do.
> 
> I wanted to explore the idea of what if Blaine really did return to Dalton after _Grease_? Without the decision to talk or reach out on Thanksgiving, without each other’s support, understanding, and the ultimate reconciliation their lives would definitely have turned out differently. The idea of them finding each other again through the anonymity of a dating site intrigued me, with the mystery of who lingering through both of their minds up until they’re ready to meet. And then it all comes out.
> 
> So many thanks go to BOTH my amazing artists, [Angie](http://gleeddicted.tumblr.com) (the poster at the beginning) and [Karoline](http://owlmethis.tumblr.com) (all the drawings), as well as to my faithful beta, Ashleigh, and the lovely ladies in charge of the KHBB. The title comes from the song Blaine sings near the end, Say (All I Need) by One Republic.

“No. Absolutely not.”

Kurt is used to Santana’s less than ideal gifts. A dildo-of-the-month club membership for his twenty-first birthday; leather handcuffs and flavored lube when he and Jared wed; a vacation to a popular Caribbean nude beach when the label made it to New York Fashion Week. But this? Barely a year after he lost his husband? It’s the last straw.

“Oh, come on, Kurt. You know you can't stay single forever,” she says.

“I’m not single, Santana, I'm a widower. There’s a difference there.”

“The only difference is you aren't allowing yourself to meet other men.” Santana sits in between Kurt and Rachel on the loveseat and scoots closer to him, hooking an arm around his shoulders. “I get it, losing Jared hurt, and I’d more than likely be as distraught if it happened to Alison. But you need this. You need to take that step to get out there and find someone to make you happy.”

“I had someone and I lost him. End of story.”

“The point is you're not fine, Kurt,” Rachel chimes in.

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Oh, so you had a say in this too?”

Rachel sets her glass of pinot noir on the end table and turns to face him. “We're worried about you, you know. You haven't quite been yourself since Jared passed away, and Santana and I both feel that the best way to get our Kurt back is to find you a suitable bachelor.”

He can’t believe her audacity and hypocrisy right now. “Funny, if one of us had done the same thing a year after Finn died you would have torn our heads off. What’s the difference now?”

“The difference is you have done nothing but wallow for the past year,” Rachel huffs. “After Finn, I simply turned all my focus and energy over to making sure I became the best Fanny Brice not named Barbra. Yes, you have your work, but I think since the label was Jared’s pride and joy that it may hurt some.”

Kurt takes a few moments to inhale so as not to unleash his anger on Rachel and Santana. He’s thirty-one years old; it’s not like he doesn't have the capability to go out and meet men if he wants to, but it’s just not feasible. In Kurt Nicholas-Hummel’s brief lifetime, he has only dated three people and been left a mess every time. Blaine was supposed to be his happily ever after, the shining light after suffering for so long, until he uttered the four words Kurt never expected out of him. A few months later Rachel’s then-boyfriend, Brody, introduced him to a NYADA senior named Adam, who was a breath of fresh air to mend Kurt of his heartbreak. Unfortunately, his visa expired not long after graduation and he headed back to England before the sticky heat of midsummer kicked in.

And then came Jared. A 28-year-old alumnus of the New School, he showed up in Kurt’s sophomore design studio class looking for a few summer interns to help with the launch of his line, J. Nicholas Apparel. After a summer full of sewing, tailoring, and a few stitches to his hand, Jared pulled Kurt aside and gushed over his untapped talent still striving to break free. He offered not only a permanent position in the company, flexible enough to continue his education, but also a date for the following evening.

Despite everyone’s insistence at the opposite, their personal and professional relationships melded beautifully. Before Kurt graduated he had his own office and a key to Jared’s apartment. He began sharing his own creations with Jared and within eighteen months, J. Nicholas Apparel became NicholasHummel. The very evening the change became official, Jared asked Kurt to marry him. The ceremony was everything he expected, and married life suited Kurt. He just never expected it to come to an abrupt, tragic end within three years.

“Thank you for your concern, both of you,” he finally says slowly, “but I’m not ready to go out and try to find someone. It...it still hurts, you know? One moment he was fine and the next...gone.”

Santana pulls him into a tight hug before he has the chance to break down. It’s silly that fifteen months later he’s still devastated by the fact. Even his depression over his mother’s passing didn’t affect him the way Jared’s did. “Look, Kurt,” she soothes into his ear, “we know he’s always going to be a part of you, but that doesn't mean you should cut yourself off from letting your heart have another shot at falling in love. A decade ago, yeah, I probably should have done the same thing for Berry…”

“I've been perfectly fine finding potential love interests, thank you.”

“Uh-huh. Brody, Jason, Ty, Gordon…”

Rachel sinks back into the corner of the sofa. “I'm still not the one who needs this,” she mutters.

Santana shakes her head. “Anyway, Kurt, you need to get back out there and meet someone. Even if you aren't looking for a relationship, just getting laid will do wonders for your mental state.”

Kurt glares up at Santana, still frustrated. “You know damn well that I would never do a one night stand. Rachel and I aren't like the old, pre-domesticated you.”

He hears Rachel clear her throat and glances over. She plucks a crumb off the silk-chiffon dress Kurt custom made for her birthday months prior and refuses to look him in the eyes. “Actually it’s not so bad…”

“Seriously? When did this happen?”

“When I haven't had time for a relationship, right after Ty cheated on me… why does it matter, Kurt? I needed it at those points.”

He sighs, frustrated at how insistent his friends are at ‘fixing’ his love life. “Really, Rachel, am I the only person who views sex as something special for both parties involved?”

“You and those freaks who think saving themselves for marriage is alright,” Santana snickers before turning serious. “Come on, Kurt. We don't want to see you waste your life away. Jared wouldn't want that for you; he'd expect you to be your fierce, fabulous self and find a new man who you can love, not necessarily as much or more than Jared, since he was your husband, but as much as you can.”

Rachel nods in agreement of everything Santana says. “Do you remember those first months after you and Blaine broke up? How broken and alone you were in that time, thinking there would never be a way for you to fall in love with someone else the way you did him?”

“Yeah,” Kurt shrugs.

“Hey, whatever happened to Prince Bowtie anyway?” Santana asks, sipping on her chardonnay. “It’s like he dropped off the face of the earth afterwards, and any time I went to visit Britt he was never around.”

He sighs at the memories of their high school loves. “That’s because he transferred back to Dalton right after Grease. Finn said something about not feeling like he belonged at McKinley without me and wanting a fresh start. I…I don't think anyone in New Directions heard from him since.”

“You either?”

“No, Santana, I didn't think of catching up with the first boy I fell in love with after he stomped all over my heart and claimed it was out of loneliness.”

Santana reels back in defense. “Sorry, just asking.”

“I know.” Kurt glances at his watch and notes the time. “Look, I love you both, but it’s getting late and I have a long day of approving designs ahead of me in the morning. I think it’s time to head off to bed.”

“You're kicking us out already?” Rachel complains. “We haven't even broken out the sing-along Chicago DVD yet.”

“We can save it for next time.” Kurt shoots a look towards Santana that says ‘I'm hiding it before Rachel comes over again’, to which she nearly snorts wine out of her nose.

“I'm pretty sure Alison is wondering where the hell I am anyway. You'd think I had enough spaceyness when I was with Brittany, but sometimes she makes me wonder.” She stands and takes her wine glass to the counter separating the living room and kitchen. “Come on, Berry,” Santana says, “let’s leave our boy to his own party with Mister Vibe.”

“Santana!”

She grins innocently before giving him a hug and whispering in his ear. “Kurt, don’t put this in the back of your mind. Eventually you will feel the need to move on, and it won't mean you’ve forgotten Jared. You're a catch, still young, and I'm sure there’s a man out there who would be grateful to call himself yours. Plus manhattansingles.net has a killer success ratio compared to the global sites.”

“I know,” Kurt says. “I'll call you later, alright?”

As they break apart Rachel drops an arm around his waist. “You're not that mad, are you?”

“Not so much.” Kurt pulls her closer. “Just...I get Santana’s intentions, but I should do this on my own terms, when I'm ready. Right?”

“Of course, sweetie.” She pecks his cheek and follows Santana to the door. “Goodnight, Kurt! Happy birthday!” she calls out as she crosses the threshold into the hallway.

Kurt waves. “Love you girls,” he replies before Rachel shuts the door. He goes about cleaning up the soiled dishes from dinner and splitting the leftovers up for lunch tomorrow and last-minute dinners in the future. He decides it’s the perfect time to retire for the evening as the dishwasher hums in the background, so he turns the lights out and heads to the bathroom to begin his evening skincare routine.

As Kurt turns to the mirror he finally takes a good look at himself. Thirty-one is a fairly insignificant age; not young and energetic enough to go to all-night raves anymore, yet not over-the-hill, tucked into bed at 10 PM with the local news on. But his life resembles the latter much more than the former. Kurt takes in the faint lines that have popped up around his mouth and the tired dullness that has overtaken his once-shining blue eyes. His skin is paler, almost ashen in color, and as he smiles at his reflection it’s obviously not as happy as it used to be. This is not the Kurt Nicholas-Hummel that should be staring back at him.

He is lonely, but Kurt feels that admitting this is failure. He’s held on for so long, from the moment the doctor informed him there was nothing they could do to save Jared, through the funeral and the legal meetings to fully install himself as CEO of the label, through their wedding anniversary and the day Jared would have turned thirty-seven, through Christmas, New Year’s, and the first Valentine’s Day after with the first anniversary only nine days later. He’s had tremendous support from his dad and Carole, Santana and Alison, Rachel and her now-ex Gordon, and everyone at NicholasHummel. The only problem is he hasn't given himself a chance to stop grieving and move on with his life, and it’s starting to show.

“I am such a failure,” he whispers to the Kurt in front of him. His reflection only blinks in response.

* * *

Kurt pushes the idea of the singles site out of his head for a few days until his weekly call to Lima. Once Burt retired from Congress after the 2020 elections and returned home, the calls started up on Friday evenings, a relic back to their family dinners when Kurt was growing up. They've given Kurt some sense of normalcy in his hectic life, especially in the weeks and months that followed Jared’s death.

“So how was your birthday, dear?” Carole inquires after they've exchanged pleasantries and his dad spent five minutes talking about the new mechanic that is possibly working on cars under the table.

“Oh, it was nothing special,” Kurt says. “I had a quiet night in with Rachel and Santana, a lot of food and a lot of fun. Being in our thirties, you know, we don't have to have the same old wild celebrations we did when we started out over here.”

“Get any good gifts from them?” Burt asks.

“None that top the gift card to that spa on 68th I've been itching to go to. Thank you, guys.”

“What can I say, a little birdie brought the gift up the last time I spoke to her - along with other potential ones you may have received?”

Kurt sighs, setting the knife down on the cutting board where he was chopping up cucumbers for his salad. Rachel and Carole have remained close over the years, forming a bit of a mother-daughter relationship that forces denied them from sharing., so he isn't surprised that at least one of them is aware of what he’s avoiding. “What about them?” he finally replies, attempting to sound stoic but failing.

“Can you hold on a second, Kurt?” He listens to muffled murmurs between Burt and Carole for a few moments before she comes back. “Sorry about that,” she says, sounding crisper and louder from being off the speakerphone they employ during the Friday phone call. “I told your father I wanted to speak to you privately about this whole thing.”

“Carole, please,” he pleads.

“Honey, I know exactly what you're going through. My friends did the same thing a year or two after Chris’ death.”

This is something he forgets; Carole Hudson, pre-becoming a Hummel, had a healthy love life. Kurt remembers the first time Finn invited him over during his misguided crush and the discussions after viewing his dad’s Army uniform and the ensuing discussion about Carole’s partners after she lost her husband. Finn seemed to care of each of her boyfriends in a different way. He finally says to her, “They did?”

“Not quite in the same way, of course. EHarmony and Match.com didn’t become all that popular until the milennium. But they set me up on dates, found men they knew I'd be interested in…they got me to open up for the first time after I lost him.”

“I’m not ready, Carole,” Kurt bemoans. “I just lost Jared, how would it look to people if I started dating again?”

“Kurt, there’s no timetable on how long to wait after losing a loved one,” she replies. “It was a little later than it is for you now, but the only reason they held off was because I had Finn to raise. To tell you the truth, I probably could have begun dating…maybe even nine months after.”

“That’s a little soon, don't you think?”

“No sooner than dating after a divorce or breakup, don't you think?”

Carole’s words punch Kurt right in the gut because he’s done that before. It was only three months after he broke up with Blaine that he began seeing Adam, prodded on by Rachel in hopes of getting him out of the funk he'd landed in the moment the confession of his infidelity tumbled out of Blaine’s mouth. “I see,” he finally says. “Did you regret it? Either waiting or going out?”

“Not at all, sweetie. As long as they understood that Finn came first for me, every man I dated before I met your father was, for the most part, wonderful. There was an odd one here or there who pressured for more of a commitment than I could offer at the time, but I really got to enjoy my love life the way I knew Chris would have wanted me to.

“Kurt, you are a terrific man and I'm sure there are many men who will be charmed by your presence in their lives,” Carole continues. “It may seem false to you now, but know that Jared would want you to be happy without him around. At some point, whether it’s next week, or six months, or even years from now, you'll probably begin feeling that itch of loneliness. I explained to Rachel long ago that your life doesn't end when you lose your beloved.”

“I know that,” Kurt snaps before apologizing. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“Can I tell you something, Carole?”

“Of course you can.”

Sometimes it’s unfathomable to think she’s been his stepmother for longer than he knew his own mother, but Kurt is glad she’s around for when he needs advice from someone other than his father. He takes a deep breath and leans against the granite countertop. “I think, deep down, I don't want to turn into Dad. He was a wreck after Mom died, much like I was with Jared. And he just…he sustained, I guess. He went to the shop, came home, made sure I ate and did my homework, and then he watched tv until it was bedtime, day after day after day until I introduced you to him. I don't want to turn out like that.”

“Sweetheart,” Carole sighs, “you won’t turn out like that.”

“And I know I'm not quite there yet with being able to move on, with hitting the dating scene and all that. But I don't want to be so lethargic and wait until it’s almost too late to find someone new. Who knows what could have happened if I hadn't tricked you two into dating to get closer to Finn, you know?”

Carole chuckles. She and Burt are well aware of the story now, something Kurt confessed to on their fifth wedding anniversary to ease the pain of Finn not being around. “I think you two would have been fine.” Kurt can hear his father calling something out in the background, to which Carole replies, “In a moment!”

“I take it he wants back in on the conversation?” Kurt inquires.

“He’s threatening to go after the ice cream if I don’t return to the kitchen with you on the line.”

“Thank you anyway, Carole, before I forget. You really have helped me figure some things out tonight.”

“I’m glad to have assisted. Just don't rush if you aren't ready; Rachel, Santana, your father and I all want you to be happy again, whether it’s with someone or not.”

“I know,” Kurt replies. He smiles to himself because he knows it’ll happen. He wouldn’t expect Jared to mourn forever if the tables were turned.

His father’s voice cuts in and breaks him out of his thought. “I swear you two gab more and more every week without me,” Burt mutters.

Kurt laughs freely. “Dad, that’s impossible, half the time you don’t allow us to say a word at all.” He picks the knife back up and resumes chopping, easily enjoying the conversation through the remainder of dinner.

* * *

Summertime for Kurt is the worst. While many of his acquaintances run off to the Hamptons, the Jersey shore, or elsewhere for a reprieve from the hectic city life, he's in the midst of preparing the spring/summer 2025 line for Fashion Week. The only break he gets is the annual 4th of July blowout Rachel throws. It's basically a who's who of Broadway's finest with the addition of a few select non-theater pals - namely Kurt, Santana, and Alison.

This is the first time in about five years Kurt has looked forward to the celebration. For several years, the party left Kurt with some residual guilt about not continuing his pursuit of a spot at NYADA and choosing fashion over performing. And last year, with Jared's birthday falling July 3rd, there was no possibility of him being in the right frame of mind to spend an evening pretending around people he didn't know.

"Kuuuuurt!" Alison screams as he exits the stairwell onto the roof. She bounds over and attacks Kurt with one of her monstrously tight hugs. “Guess what?”

“What’s up, Al?” he asks, almost afraid to know what’s going to come out of her mouth. She’s no Brittany, but…well, Santana’s always had a type.

“We set a date!” she exclaims. “We're getting married on Valentine’s Day!”

That was definitely one of the last sentences he expected. A flood of emotions run through him, beginning with happiness that one of his dearest friends has found the love of her life and is ready to take that commitment to bring the Lopez and Becker families together, regret that Rachel is going to be the only one single out of the trio, and then the stark realization that no, she won't be. This past February was completely difficult; Kurt spent Valentine’s Day avoiding the world, curled up in bed with his go-to feel-better movie, The Sound of Music. And just nine days later brought the first anniversary of the darkest day of his short life on the planet. The memory of the doctor bringing the most unimaginable news to a waiting Kurt, the news that Jared passed away from a blood clot in his brain, is one that still haunts him. It’s dampened what Kurt used to consider a joyful month full of admiration and commitment.

He finally pastes on a bright, welcoming smile. “Well, congratulations,” he says to Alison as he pulls her into another hug. “You two are going to be the best looking brides I've ever had the pleasure of designing for,” he follows up.

Alison pulls back in shock. “Are you sure?” she asks. “We can totally find a few dresses on our own-”

“Did you really think I would let you two walk down the aisle in something off the rack?” he scoffs. “As soon as Fashion Week ends I'll begin drawing up designs for you. Just promise you won’t show yours to Santana or vice versa?”

“Of course not.” She pecks his cheek before running off to greet the next oncomer to the party. Kurt watches her for a moment, her glee never wavering, before realizing he really needs a heavy drink.

Rachel sidles up to him as he nurses his double martini. “So you heard the news?” she asks.

“Alison told me five seconds after I walked in,” Kurt sighs. “You realize what we’re in for, right?”

“A repeat of your groomzilla tendencies?”

“Love you too, Rachel.” He downs the remainder of his glass and sets it back onto the bar, motioning for a replacement. “They're going to be so lovey-dovey for the next seven months. It’s pretty disheartening to us single folk.”

“Oh, Kurt,” Rachel replies. She snakes her arms around his waist and pulls him in. “I guarantee that we will both be there with incredible men. Just because we lost Mr. Right sooner than we expected doesn't mean we're destined to be alone forever.”

It’s that moment when it hits Kurt like a bullet. He’s ready to meet someone. He remembers how Rachel was in the months following Finn’s passing before she met grad student Jason and how much he eased her pain. A boyfriend may be the one thing to pull him through Santana and Alison’s wedding, and he already has the means to test out potential matches. “You're right, we're each going to find someone,” Kurt says confidently.

Rachel grins broadly, excited he’s finally interested in moving on. “We will.”

He spends the next hour mingling with several of Rachel’s theater buddies, none of whom Kurt can remember the names of on a day-to-day basis. When it’s time to turn to the celebration over the Hudson River, he focuses on the bright bursts of sound and color as he remembers how his heart felt each time he fell in love. The longing lingers after the fireworks die out, and he excuses himself not long after, wishing Rachel, Santana, and Alison good evenings and promising to catch up with them soon.

Kurt arrives at his building and greets Edgar, the 85-year-old doorman who never seems to move from his post any evening. Within minutes he’s in his apartment booting up his computer and searching for the information Santana left behind for him. The sheet is lying in the back pocket of his day planner, which only his secretary, Sheila, is allowed to touch. He mentally curses Santana out for getting her involved as he unfolds it and nervously types the login info for Manhattan Singles into the buffer.

The username Santana chose is a bit obvious, Kurt thinks; any single, fashionable male may make the assumption as to his identity when they see the name KNicholas. He’s also less than impressed with the password _1opezBecker_. After that, however, his profile is a blank slate. Kurt answers the generic questionnaire with his relevant vitals, his turn-ons and turn-offs, and then he stares at the screen for several minutes formulating how he should introduce himself to potential suitors.

_Bonjour, mes amis,_ Kurt types into the about me section. _You can call me K, if you desire. Maybe if we get closer you can find out what it stands for. ;)_

_I'm a 31-year-old gay male invested in making others look better. New York has been my home for nearly twelve years now and you couldn't pay me enough to reside in the mundane, closed-minded Midwestern town I grew up in. I am passionate about the theater, enough that I briefly considered a career in it, so be prepared for many discussions about what's on Broadway right now (and maybe a few excursions?)_

He debates adding the next paragraph, but goes ahead. Better to be upfront about everything from the get-go, he thinks. _Don't be surprised if it takes me some time to warm up and become attached to you. I have a history of losing loved ones prematurely that goes back nearly twenty-five years. It culminated last year in the unexpected death of my darling husband to an aneurysm. I feel I've been mourning him for too long now, and its time to get on with my life. Finding companionship this late in the game (and yes, I know I'm not old at all!) is a scary thought, but even scarier is the potential to live out my life without someone to love. And besides, my dad found his soulmate in his forties, so maybe I’ll be fine after all. If you feel you can't handle my baggage, thank you for reading this anyway. However, if you're still interested in getting to know the person behind these words, feel free to send me a message._

_-K  
The show must go...all over the place, or something. -FCH, 2011_

He enters the signature as a fitting reminder for himself. He never heard Finn say them in person, but from the moment Rachel had the words engraved onto the memorial plaque that still hangs in McKinley's choir room, Kurt adopted it as his mantra. And it rings true now, as he embarks on this new journey.

* * *

By the time Kurt wakes in the morning, a message is already waiting for him.

He waits until the late-morning, post-holiday lull settles in at the flagship store before he checks it. Fridays are generally his days helping the retail side out and checking sales numbers for the week. Today, though, it seems the city is suffering from a mass hangover after a raucous Fourth, and the steady stream of both locals and tourists looking for the greatest selection has been significantly reduced. Even the main office and factory sounds less busy than usual, with many of his employees taking advantage of a rare four-day weekend. Sheila’s only checked in with him once, and Kurt pretty much doesn't expect to hear from her again until he arrives at the office on Monday.

After peeking out to the sales floor and seeing Janie with the lone shopper in the store and Ray and Chelsea arguing over what color madras shirt to dress the mannequin in, he pulls the website up on his tablet, logs in, and reads the waiting message.

_Hi K,_

_I came across your profile and said to myself, “Now here’s a man I'd be interested in getting to know!” I’m Steve, 39, a Leo, and I work on Wall Street. I’m a bit nervous doing this as well - I just separated from my wife of twelve years after finally taking the time to discover my true self. Growing up in Mississippi is not the place for someone like you or me. Hit me up to chat or get pics!_

_Steven McDane_

Kurt groans and frantically hunts down the delete button to rid himself of the memory of the message. A man who repressed his sexuality for nearly four decades? That is not someone he cares to associate with, let alone potentially date. He knows how hard it is, he and Santana both survived the judgement of Lima’s sad excuses for citizens. And Blaine, he guesses, wherever he may be. Dave Karofsky finally thrived after high school and found himself a great boyfriend in Arizona, where he works as a contractor. Hell, Rachel’s fathers have survived adulthood in the town.

He knows it’s not the case for everyone; Jared was a prime example. One of the first stories they discussed on a late night at the J.Nicholas offices was about how Jared really had the ideal childhood: an older and younger sibling, active in several sports, honor student. None of it mattered the day he came out, shortly after he turned sixteen, and he was unceremoniously kicked out of the house. He slept on the streets of his hometown in Missouri until he hitchhiked halfway across the country to make it to his dream. He picked up two jobs, found a decent roommate on Craigslist, and put himself through earning his GED and studying at Parsons. Even after he legally dropped his original surname of Lewis, his older sister Mandi easily found him and helped pay to get his dream off the ground. She was the only family member Kurt ever met, and she showed up at both the wedding and the funeral with no mention of congratulations or condolences from the rest of the family.

As the afternoon wears on, Kurt thinks about this Steve’s poor estranged wife, building a life with someone before having the rug pulled from under her. The notice of the message, with his username, is still sitting in Kurt’s inbox, so he contemplates searching for the lady to see how she never knew. He talks himself out of it, though, and realizes this message he basically ruined his concentration for the day. He saves the spreadsheets and order forms before closing out of the computer, and with a reminder to Janie to tell the closers to make sure the trash is done that evening, Kurt heads home for the weekend.

* * *

The next six weeks, as Kurt throws himself deeper into making sure the line is coming along before Fashion Week, are filled with more messages he has little to no interest in.

_K, I hope you're as sexy as you sound in your profile. How about you and I meet for coffee and maybe a little more, iykwim? ;)  
S_

_Dearest K,  
My name is Raul Costas Valenzuela. I have moved here from Nicaragua in search of a man. I work at Johnny’s Market on 136th in the Bronx. Please message me back._

_K,_

_Well, I'm already intrigued. So what’s it stand for? Keith? Kyle? Kennedy?_  
I’m Pete, 24, an aspiring model. 6-3 with blond hair and blue eyes. If you're wondering, a link to my portfolio is in my profile. You sound fun, although I’m going to have to say I doubt you can make me look any better. Kidding, of course.  
Hoping to hear from you soon!  
Pete 

_K, I ran across your profile and I must say you sound pretty great. Maybe we can chat and see what happens from there? A guy like you is hopefully my ticket out of the dreadful string of relationships I've endured. Can't wait to talk! Christina_

Each message stabs Kurt’s already small hope to find someone before the wedding more and more. S sounds like a slimeball just from the blatant innuendo used, he refuses to be used for someone’s Green card, dating a model is a complete no-no across the fashion world, and really, did a _woman_ message him after he discussed both the fact that he’s gay and had a husband?

Even on the few chances he has to search around Manhattan Singles for prospects he’s less than thrilled with those that match him in compatibility. From too-young Columbia freshmen to 60-something-year-old lifelong bachelors, every last available, homosexual man makes Kurt want to call his ex, Adam, and pay for a Transatlantic flight just to attend this stupid wedding.

When he receives another message one hazy and humid August evening, he’s already reluctant to open it up. It takes until after he’s eaten and cleaned up to finally muster up the courage to see what this ‘prospect’ has to say.

_Dear K,_

_Hello. :) I hope you're having a good day, week, everything._

_I must say the air of mystery in your description is what made me message you. I've been fairly unlucky across the board when it comes to romance (though it sounds like you may have it worse? I'm so terribly sorry about your loss), so I'm hoping signing up on here is a step in the right direction._

_Oh! It would help if I told you who am am, wouldn’t it? See, unlucky and a little unprepared. Anyway, I'll keep with your trend and say that you can call me B. I’m knocking on the doorstep of the big 3-0 and my mom is sort of hinting at the idea of finding Mr. Right before she’s too old and frail to see me walk down the aisle. That was one one of the reasons why I came to New York, anyway, because of how they propelled our fight for equality as I was falling for my high school sweetheart._

_Enough about him, though - he was quite darling, but we're talking twelve years now since we parted ways. Where was I? Oh, yeah, myself. I’m a doctor. A pediatrician, in fact, enjoying a fellowship at one of the top family practices in Brooklyn. I enjoy my job so, so much. Helping kids get better and seeing their bright, toothy grins when I give them a sticker for being a trooper with their shots makes my day. Of course I've had the occasional problem child or one that I have to break terrible news to, but I do it for them, to make sure they can be healthy and happy._

_Theater is definitely one of my vices, so I'd be up for a date to any show. I nearly went into acting, in fact, but went through some...major changes, shall we say, that led me towards medicine. I do still play piano a bit, at a lounge near Little Italy on the weekends I'm lucky enough to not be on call._

_Alright, I feel like I've rambled on for too long and possibly bored you to death. I’m hoping to hear back from you, but just in case it doesn't happen? Thanks for listening. Or reading, I guess._

_B_

Kurt has to read through the message two more times, his smile growing as he becomes intrigued by B’s heartfelt words. They aren’t too much at all, and he’s instantly wondering why this brave soul claims to be unlucky in love. This is someone he could have easily been with had they met in traditional ways, back before he hooked up with Jared. Before he knows it, he clicks the blue reply button and is sending a message back.

_Doctor B,_

_Don’t apologize for rambling. Your message made my day!_

_Thank you for taking the time to introduce yourself. It makes me feel like we could have met in a bar, at a coffeehouse, or even long ago in college. That’s one of the myriad of reasons why I was hesitant to finally fill the profile out after my friend created the account. You never know who you're going to come across when you can't see them face-to-face._

_A pediatrician, huh? You’re definitely intelligent, so that’s one point for you. And a lover of the performing arts gives you three on its own. What’s your favorite show? Mine is, has been, and always will be Wicked. Elphaba and I share a kinship of being misunderstood for things we were born with. May I ask why you did choose medicine over acting? I'd also love to hear you play one day. Or am I getting ahead of myself? Great, now you have me rambling! I’m going to send this before it gets too bad._

_-K_

Once Kurt sends it he checks out B’s profile. The username of HeartKeys is simple and alluring, much more than KNicholas ever would be. He doesn't learn much more that what B already disclosed, only that he graduated magna cum laude from Columbia and he grew up in, of all places, Ohio. It’s a tidbit Kurt files away for a later time, and he closes out of the tab to check his email for the label.

It’s morning when he’s going through his familiar routine - shower, skin, start coffee, email, breakfast - that he receives notice of another message, one that must have been sent out within an hour of his.

_K,_

_You are so right about the awkwardness of meeting through these measures. If I had time to properly date someone this past decade, I most likely wouldn't have resorted to this by now. Let’s just say I’m a bit of a coward and awkward when it comes to being around attractive men._

_I’m a bit intrigued by your point system. How many would I receive if I said that playing Tony in my high school’s adaptation of West Side Story was my biggest break? ;) Honestly, I'm fond of so many different productions that it’s hard to choose just one. Maybe Les Miserables, I guess, because when I studied in Paris my sophomore year of undergrad I read the entire unabridged novel and felt for Valjean and Fantine’s perils (okay, and maybe staring at Hugh Jackman and Aaron Tveit for two and a half hours when the film came out helped too.)_

_As for your other question...long story short, things happened towards the end of high school that sort of discouraged me from going that route. Too many bad memories, I guess. It worked out, though, as I never would have experienced everything I did at Columbia had I gone to, say, Tisch or NYADA. Best eight years of my life! Medicine has been good for me and WONDERFUL for my little patients._

_What about you? What exactly do you do for a living? Where did you attend college, if you did? What are you afraid of?_

_Waiting for your reply,  
B_

The fresh pot of coffee goes ignored as Kurt giddily taps out a new message.

_Good morning, B!_

_Ah, another lucky graduate of the Sondheim School of Song. We performed that my senior year of high school and I, sadly, did not impress enough to become Tony. I commend you for your big shot, it’s truly one of the quintessential love tragedies that can bring me to tears every time._

_I’m sorry the acting world turned on you if that’s the case, and I understand. NYADA turned me down after a, dare I say, flawless audition. It worked out in the end, though, and after some time searching for what I wanted to do after the rejection and a prime opportunity, I enrolled in The New School and never looked back. I have a degree in fashion design and dabble in it from time to time. Currently I work behind the scenes of a fantastic label’s store (and if we're keeping up the anonymity, good luck getting the designer’s name out of me!). I could not be happier with how my life has turned out, even if I do sometimes contemplate the ‘what ifs’._

_Fears...oh, vampires by far. One time my dad went to bed as we were watching Dracula. I couldn't sleep for almost two weeks! That’s about it. My early years in town with my lovely cockroach roomies helped me get used to them. How about you?_

_One final question before I scurry off to work: Ohio? What a small world, huh? :)_

_Have a good day!  
-K_

Kurt doesn't realize how much the conversation affects him until he reaches work. Waltzing in with his travel mug, Sheila takes one look at him and chuckles. “What?” he asks, worried he’s already spilled coffee on his tie.

Sheila just grins and waves him off. “Nothing, it’s nothing.”

“It must be something. Come on, what did I do?”

“Kurt,” she says, standing up and coming out from behind her desk, “it’s...I just haven't seen you like this in a long time, that’s all.”

“Like what?” he demands.

“All happy and smiling. This is the first genuine smile I think I've seen on you since Jared died. Did something happen?”

Kurt feels his face warming in embarrassment as he brings his free hand up to his mouth. “No, nothing really. It’s just...a really good day, I guess,” he fibs, not wanting to reveal anything after he’s only received two messages from B.

Sheila pulls him into a hug tight enough that Kurt nearly drops his stainless steel mug. “Well, whatever it is that made you like this I hope it stays. You deserve all the happiness after the last eighteen months.”

“Thank you, Sheila,” Kurt says into her shoulder. He knows he hasn't always been close to her - Jared dealt with more of the day-to-day operations while Kurt handled the design and execution of the pieces - but she’s possibly the greatest assistant in Manhattan. He lets her go, straightens the bag on his shoulder, and heads towards his office door. “I’m going to catch up on things for Fashion Week if anyone needs me,” he calls out as he crosses the threshold, barely hearing her acknowledgement before shutting the door behind him.

The morning flies by. Kurt manages to pick music for the show and whittles down the list of potential models to come in next week to only the best. It’s nearly 2 when Sheila knocks on the door and drops off a ham and Havarti bagel and bottle of water for him from the deli. Kurt thanks her and unwraps the sandwich, savoring a bite before he takes a chance and logs into the dating site on a whim. Sure enough, B has managed to reply to his early morning message.

_K,_

_I feel I was a fantastic Tony. At least my Maria always said so back then. (Not that we dated! Trust me, I'm 100% repulsed by certain parts of the female anatomy. Going through those lessons were traumatic.)_

_Wow, NYADA didn’t accept someone like you? What a tragedy. I did consider them once upon a time and then...well, my senior year wasn't up to what I expected. There were many reasons I chose premed over acting then...my parents’ wishes and my outstanding academics among them. Learning has always held a piece of my heart, I guess, and I wanted to make the most out of it._

_Now I'm wondering if I've stepped into the store you work at. Maybe not, my style is more traditional. Tom Ford, Brooks Brothers, and Ralph Lauren dominate my closet space. From the little I know about you I already feel you're probably into cutting-edge designs._

_There is_ nothing _wrong with vampires, K, they aren't even real! But don't worry, I won't force you into watching Twilight or anything. I don't like roller coasters, though. Nothing about being a hundred feet off the ground, being flipped upside-down, and racing around a tiny track makes me believe I won’t fall to my death out of those. Actually, even heights in general can terrify me, but that can be traced back to my older brother threatening to throw me over the second story railing at the mall once._

_Yep, born and raised near Columbus! Am I to assume you're a fellow Buckeye? Whereabouts? Which teams are the ones you follow? We may have a problem if you say you're a Browns fan, jsyk._

_I better get going, my next patients are due here in about ten minutes. Two year old twins that are so adorable! I'd talk more about them, but HIPAA laws and all that._

_Enjoy your day!  
B_

Kurt checks the timestamp and notices B only sent the message an hour ago. He closes out of the site instead of answering him so as not to seem desperate. It does, however, motivate him to get a number of smaller tasks done rather than leave them until Monday when he returns from his day at the store and the weekend. He still thinks of B and his words all the way through the train ride and walk home, and he barely makes greets Edgar and makes it upstairs before rushing towards his computer.

_B,_

_Well, you must have had the ego to make it on Broadway had you gone that route. (Kidding, of course, I lived with a starlet for several years and how she and I never killed each other...I don't think mine ever dissipated after the rejection.) Anyway, it sounds like Columbia was the right choice after all. As much as I adore the theater, I’d have hated to see your brilliant mind go to waste._

_Ah, a man with his own style. You're right, those are not the designers I work for, but I do appreciate their work. Actually, I have a secret adoration for Brooks Brothers, for reasons that few people are aware of (and no, my husband was not among those). And I'm sure those classic brands go wonderfully with your white coat!_

_No, not roller coasters! I understand, though I do love them myself. It’s a thrill going to Coney Island or taking a day trip to Hershey or Six Flags with my girls. I guess you can hold their purses for them should you come!_

_Oh, I’m not from any of the big cities. In fact, you've probably never heard of my town. As for sports, you’re on the safe side. I have zero interest in them, although my father has always supported the Buckeyes. Do they play the Browns?_

_Anyway, I should head off and get some stuff done around my place. Enjoy your evening!_

_-K_

He doesn't check his computer every hour, nobody can prove that. Kurt putters around the apartment doing laundry and scrubbing down the kitchen, and by the time it’s 10 PM and there’s no message waiting for him, he dejectedly shuts his laptop down and heads to bed. He worries that he went to far - having only been in three relationships, with the last running nearly a decade, maybe Kurt laid it on too thick for B to be interested anymore. He forgets about his insecurities in the morning, however, when a brief reply is waiting for him.

_K,_

_Sorry I didn't get back to you! My brother and sister-in-law made an impromptu trip up here so we spent the night on the town. I'll answer your questions as soon as I can, so don't worry! :)_

_B_

Kurt squeals like a teenage girl. Everything is okay.

* * *

The summer heat sticks around through Labor Day. Kurt lazes around the perimeter of Rachel’s building’s thankfully indoor pool, martini in one hand, phone in another. He and B have progressed from several messages online to many more sent via text, and he’s certain their friendship is only improving by the day. It may even be time for that first meeting, when they will finally be face-to-face and Kurt’s identity will be revealed.

When his phone chimes with an alert, Kurt swipes the text open. _I think I had enough sunscreen in my bag to make the security guards laugh._ He chuckles and types, _Dear Yankee Stadium security, protecting your skin is of the utmost importance right now! And this is coming from the one who didn't go to med school._

Santana pulls up another lounge chair and sits next to Kurt. “Well, someone seems quite popular today,” she quips, sipping on her mojito.

Kurt attempts to slip his phone back into his bag before Santana snatches it. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?" he demands.

"Seeing who is more important than my fantastic self that you've ignored us all," she replies. Kurt grimaces as she finds the texts and lets out a low whistle. "Damn, boy, where'd you meet him?" she finally asks.

"Funny story, some wench I seem to call my best friend signed me up for a dating site and I started talking to him on there."

"No way," Santana laughs, "I didn't think you'd ever have the balls to go through with it even after I gave you all the information. Is he hot?"

Kurt shrugs. "I wouldn't know. We haven't met in person yet."

"But you've exchanged pics, right? Potential jackoff material?"

"We've only been talking for two and a half weeks, Santana," he sighs.

She glares at Kurt over her Dior sunglasses. "Seriously, Hummel? If it were me I'd be banging him right now. Do you even know his name since it only says B?"

Kurt grabs his phone out of her grip. "He only knows me as K, so what's the difference? I don't want him to only want to date me by knowing who I am."

Santana continues glaring and downs the rest of her drink. "I don't think that's going to last long when you finally meet and he notices Kurt Nicholas-Hummel on every one of your credit cards."

"If who notices?" Rachel interrupts, taking the chair on Kurt's left while Alison slips into Santana's lap. "What are we talking about?"

"It seems our little boy is speaking to someone on Manhattan Singles that he doesn't know anything about," Santana replies.

"That's not true," Kurt huffs. "We've both told each other plenty of things."

"So he _does_ know you're a bigshot designer?" she argues.

Kurt flinches back. "He knows I work in fashion and I'm from Ohio. That's enough to keep him from guessing, don't you think?"

"What's he like?" Alison asks. "I always wondered if anyone that wasn't creepy ever signed up for those sites."

"Your fiancée notwithstanding," Kurt smirks as Santana flips him off, "he sounds like a really good guy. He's a pediatrician, works weekends at a lounge, and went to Columbia. We have so many things in common, too.”

Rachel looks at him suspiciously. “Are you sure you aren't being, you know, catfished?”

“Oh my god, Rachel, give Hummel a break,” Santana groans.

“What? I can’t worry that someone’s playing with him?”

“I thought you were with me on getting him out meeting guys again? Now you don’t trust the one he found? Hell, even if he’s five-foot-two and three hundred pounds I think Kurt would just be happy to be getting some again.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Santana, he’s a doctor. I doubt three hundred pounds would have a chance of happening.”

“Well you haven't met my gynecologist,” she mutters. “Whatever, all I’m trying to tell Princess Streisand is that there’s obviously something going on between you and this B character. You look so much happier and more relaxed. So you don’t know what he looks like yet, I'm sure you're on the way to that fateful meeting, and soon we'll be planning your next wedding and preparing for all the babies you two will adopt.”

Kurt tries to say something but his mouth turns to sawdust. As little as he knows about B’s physical appearance, he’s fairly certain he’s falling in love. He think he’s slightly insane because of it - they haven't even known each other three weeks! But he feels an underlying current of comfort every time he hears from B, something he hasn't felt since the early days of his relationship with Jared. In fact, Kurt doesn't think he’s felt like this maybe even since he was dating Blaine all those years ago. It’s that scary, all-encompassing warmth of knowing someone has your back, knows your ins and outs, and wants to make sure you're alright. He’s felt that every day when he wakes to a good morning text from B. It should be wrong this early, but it isn’t.

“Whatever,” he finally says, setting his drink on the concrete and leaning back. “Sometimes I think all of you are more interested in my love life than your own.”

“Kurt?” Alison asks timidly, always shy to speak up around the Three Musketeers, as Jared always dubbed them. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in the two and a half years I’ve been with Santana, it’s that the three of you deeply care about each other. I’ve seen how withdrawn you all get on Finn’s birthday and the anniversary of his death, and how you did the same with Jared. I've seen Rachel open and close an outstanding show that people should have given a chance to, I've spent days debating with Santana whether she should audition for her dance troupe and making sure she didn't chicken out, the same way you and Rachel did. And seeing you this happy because of someone that sounds very special to you? It warms my heart.”

“Thank you, Al,” he says.

Santana wraps an arm around Alison. “My girl’s right. This boy has obviously turned you back from robot to human. Maybe you should bring him around to one of our dinners?”

“I haven't even met him in person yet. You think I want to jump right in and introduce him to your satanic ways and Rachel’s encyclopedia on the history of Broadway?”

“So ask him to lunch or coffee or something,” Rachel shrugs.

“I…”

“Kurt, remember who convinced you to ask Adam out? Now I’m doing the same with B. Meet him, have a good time, and maybe what you guys have is even better than you think.”

Kurt nods. “Okay, yeah. I'll ask him to meet me for coffee tomorrow.”

Rachel and Alison squeal in delight, while Santana claps her hands high above her head. “It’s a miracle,” she praises. “What are you waiting for?”

“What do you mean?” Kurt asks.

“Well? Why aren't you on the phone with him yet?”

“I said I'm going to ask him tomorrow. Right now I want to enjoy the day with you three, and he’s busy watching baseball or something.”

“Oh, for the love of…” She grabs his phone again, opens the conversation Kurt’s been having with B, and hastily types something up. When she hands it back he braces for a crude invitation.

_You know, maybe it’s time we meet in person. Say, Thursday evening?_

Kurt groans. “Santana, I have meetings all week to prepare for Fashion Week, when am I going to have time?”

“Oh, you'll make time,” she replies.

Moments later a reply comes through. _That sounds like a great idea! There’s a coffeeshop two doors over from my practice, near Utica and Clarendon. 6 sound alright?_

Kurt beams and types a reply. _Sounds excellent. Can't wait to see you!_

_Me either. To be honest I'd been debating asking you for a few days now. Glad you went ahead._

“Is it a date?” Rachel asks, leaning over Kurt’s shoulder to get a peek of the messages.

He shoves her off him. “Yes, it is,” he says before going back to his phone. _It took a bit of courage, so to speak. I'll leave you alone now to enjoy the game. Hope the Yankees score more goals!_

_Runs, and they're tied now. Have a good day, K!_

* * *

Kurt takes the day off on Monday to shop for an outfit. He can’t be showing up in a NicholasHummel exclusive, and he doesn't want to look too anticipatory of the date by coming in a suit. He stops by his age-old standby of Marc Jacobs and spends over an hour going through slacks, shirts, waistcoats, and scarves to finally settle on a leopard print button-down, slim-fitting navy pants, and a white ascot. He knows he can accessorize more if need be and has enough at home to help with the ensemble.

Tuesday and Wednesday fly by in a flurry of phone conferences, early run-throughs with the models, meetings with makeup artists to discuss the palette he’s decided on, and final touches on the pieces going down the runway. By the time he trudges into his apartment it’s nearly 8:30 and he wants nothing more than to go to bed. His schedule for Thursday has been adjusted so he can make it from Midtown to Flatbush in time, and he’s foregoing his day at the store to put the final touches together before he checks out the setup at Bryant Park. Kurt’s used to it now, though, his third Fashion Week without his partner-in-crime.

He decides to whip up a quick dinner and sets a pot of water on the range as he hears his phone ding. _I really can't wait for tomorrow,_ B sends.

_Tell me about it. I have so much going on at work this week with Fashion Week that meeting you is definitely going to be the highlight._

_I bet. So, I guess you should know who you're looking for, huh? ___

__Kurt bites his lip. _It might help, that way I don’t look like a crazy New Yorker running through a coffeeshop asking for his date.__ _

___:D One moment!_ _ _

__He turns around as he hears the water begin to boil and pours in the pasta, then scours through the refrigerator to see if he has the ingredients for pesto. He finds them, sets them on the counter, and goes back to his phone just as the MMS banner pops up. Kurt opens the picture as he turns around to stir the rotini and nearly drops his phone into the pot._ _

__Staring back at him is Blaine Anderson. His ex-high school sweetheart. The one he planned of forever with over a decade prior until the unthinkable happened._ _

____

Kurt looks at the picture long enough, touching the screen every few seconds to keep it from turning off, that he ends up ruining the pasta. It doesn't matter, he’s no longer hungry, just confused. And angry.

He takes in Blaine’s appearance slowly. It’s been nearly twelve years since he last saw this face, pleading for Kurt to forgive him and take him back. Blaine looks older, of course, but his smile still shows the youthful vibe he always carried around, even when he acted older than his age. A pair of black-rimmed glasses frame his still bright honey-green eyes, and his hair is showing signs of the curl Blaine desperately gelled into submission before. He’s still one of the most beautiful men Kurt’s ever laid his eyes on.

He finally sets his phone down and pours the pasta down the garbage disposal, returns the basil and pine nuts to the refrigerator, and pads into the living room to get his tablet out and boot it up. Kurt logs into Manhattan Singles and reads through the entire conversation he’s had with B - with Blaine - to see how he never knew.

The signs were all there. From the moment Rachel and Kurt learned about NYADA, Blaine had announced his intentions of following in their footsteps the following year. It was probably the breakup that derailed his plans and sent him to Columbia. Westerville is only twenty miles outside of Columbus, despite the fact that the Andersons moved to Lima a month after his transfer to McKinley. The entire West Side Story discussion, with both of them talking about Rachel without realizing it. And the goddamn admittance to wearing Brooks Brothers. It’s like each conversation now taunts Kurt with a bright red balloon saying “hey, this is your ex-boyfriend!”

“What the fuck did I get myself into,” Kurt moans. He shuts the tablet down, tosses it on the coffee table, and collapses onto the couch in a fit of tears, unsure of how to fix this.

When Kurt’s phone alerts him of his 6:15 alarm in the morning he’s confused. He doesn't remember falling asleep on the sofa until he sees another text waiting from Blaine. _Good morning! See you in about twelve hours!_

“Oh, fuck off.” Kurt throws his phone across the apartment, thankfully managing not to shatter it against the wall. It’s too early, he feels hungover in spite of the lack of alcohol ingested, and he has a day full of preparations before the date.

Who is he kidding, Kurt thinks as he stumbles off the sofa and towards the bathroom to shower, there’s no way he’s in the mindset to meet Blaine right now. Or maybe ever. At least not without an explanation as to what exactly happened twelve years ago to cause him to fuck the first guy to show an interest in him.

The normal morning routine takes an extra half hour due to Kurt not doing anything the night before, and thanks to traffic he ends up arriving at work close to 10. Sheila takes one look at him and turns back to her computer, knowing speaking to Kurt when he’s like this is like a volcano near eruption. She instead sends an email with important messages and the rescheduled time for Kurt to meet with the music programmer.

By the time lunch rolls around Kurt decides he needs to get out. “Sheila, I'll be back in an hour and a half, tell Morgan Collins to wait if he arrives first,” he calls as he walks past her desk and out of the office. He sprints to the deli and decides his regular ham bagel won't cut it, and he goes for a turkey melt on sourdough and a large slice of blueberry cheesecake. It’s one thing to be stressed out by the final details before the show, but Blaine has made Kurt’s mood twice as bad.

As he devours his sandwich he remembers he still needs to get out of meeting Blaine. Kurt erases several drafts before settling on one that shouldn't be so devastating. _B, I hate to do this now but I've come down with a nasty case of bronchitis and I'm not going to be able to make it out there. I’m sorry._ He feels less guilty, but still as enraged. Kurt pockets his phone and takes the first bite of cheesecake, letting the sweet cream and tart blueberries relieve him if only for a few short minutes.

The cheesecake is only a memory when Kurt takes his plates towards the collection bin, depositing the trash in the one next to it. He makes his way back to the office and arrives before Morgan Collins for their meeting. He settles back into his chair and takes out his phone, seeing that Blaine sent a reply.

_Ouch. That’s totally understandable. Get plenty of rest and antibiotics. Hopefully we can reschedule another day!_

“Think again, Dr. Anderson,” Kurt mutters just as Sheila buzzes through the intercom to announce Morgan’s arrival. He forces his way through their meeting, glad his acting experience is still there for him to school himself into the star designer he is. It thankfully goes well and Morgan leaves a list of projected artists with Kurt to get a feel of how the music will enhance his runway.

Sheila knocks and peeks through the door after the meeting. “Want to talk?” she asks.

Kurt waves her off. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You've been a bit closed off today, nothing like these last few weeks.” She closes the door and pads over to the plush chairs in front of Kurt’s desk, sitting down in one. “You know I’m here if you need to talk about anything.”

“Everything’s fine, Sheila,” he answers abruptly, trying to busy himself on his computer. “I think I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, that’s all.”

She refuses to back down. “Look, Kurt, I consider you one of the dearest friends in my life. We both know I was closer to Jared, but I feel like we've bonded enough these last eighteen months, trying to make sure the label lives up to his dream. If you need anything from me, please don't hesitate to ask. I know this week and next are the most difficult of the season - lord knows I already warned Peter about my potential late nights-”

“You're not staying late tonight, Sheila.”

“Excuse me?” she balks.

“You don't need to stay,” Kurt says, finally glancing at her. “I have nearly everything under control, and those tasks that aren't can wait until tomorrow since I'll be here rather than at the store. Take the rest of the afternoon off, take your husband out to a fancy dinner, and remind him of just how special he is in your life. You never know when something unthinkable could happen, like death or jail or infidelity…you two have been together for ages, right?”

Sheila nods. “Thirty years in April. High school sweethearts and everything.”

Kurt feels another stone pound his heart deeper into his abdomen. “That’s amazing. It’s rare to see someone together for that long, you know. But really, you deserve a break for dealing with me and my madness since Jared died. Go, I'll see you in the morning.”

“Of course,” she replies. Sheila stands and heads for the door. “Have a good night, Kurt,” she says opening it and stepping back into the reception area.

“You too,” he nods. As he hears the click of the door behind her, he lets out a groan. Kurt is almost certain this entire fiasco is punishment for something - what, he isn't sure of. But he knows exactly what he needs to do to figure out how to handle everything with Blaine.

* * *

“Kurt, what are you doing here?” Rachel asks two hours later as she lets him in. “And why do you have two bags of Chinese with you? What happened to your date?”

He sets the bags on the island counter and proceeds to rummage through her kitchen, grabbing plates, forks, and wine glasses for the two of them. “I cancelled it,” he replies.

Rachel eyes him suspiciously; Chinese has always been their go-to meal when one of them was going through a crisis. “Kurt, what’s wrong? I thought you were looking forward to meeting B?”

“Oh, I was.” He pulls an already open bottle of moscato from her refrigerator and pours a hefty glass. “I sort of freaked out after he sent me his picture yesterday and faked being sick.”

“What, was he that ugly?”

Kurt scoffs at her. “On the contrary, he’s definitely not.”

“So what’s wrong?” Rachel asks as she doles lo mein onto their plates.

“Let’s just say I've already met him before.”

She stares at him, confused. “What do you - Kurt, who is he?”

Kurt sets his glass down and pulls his phone out of his pocket, swiping through to Blaine’s picture. “Why don't you see for yourself,” he says as he slides the phone across the counter.

Rachel picks it up and gasps. “Oh, my lord! Is that who I think it is?”

“You mean Blaine ‘sure, I'll transfer high schools because I love you that much but the moment you go to New York I’m going to cheat on you’ Anderson? The boy I thought I was going to marry at eighteen until the night at Callbacks happened? The same guy who dropped off the face of the earth after I said I didn't want to hear his explanation as to why he couldn't keep his goddamned pants zipped? Yep, that’s him.”

He doesn't even realize he’s crying again until Rachel rushes over and pulls him into her arms. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she whispers into his ear.

“How is it okay?” Kurt wails. “I've spent the last month falling for this amazing guy only to find out he’s my ex. Why can't I ever win, Rachel? Why does all this bad shit happen to me?”

“Don’t even say that, Kurt, it’s not true.”

“Oh, yeah?” He sniffles and wipes a tear off his cheek. “I've lost my mom, my stepbrother, and my husband too early, I nearly lost my dad, and I'm rewarded by being reintroduced to my ex? Tell me what kind of karma I’ve done to deserve this.”

Rachel stands him up. “Kurt Nicholas-Hummel, you listen to me,” she says. “So you've had a rough life; we all have. You seem to have forgotten that when you lost your stepbrother I lost the love of my life at the same time. This isn't karma, and this isn’t a deal with the devil. If anything, it’s just the thing you needed, something to bring you back to one of the most wonderful people you ever knew.”

“Who cheated on me,” Kurt interrupts.

“Forget what Blaine did for a moment,” she replies. “I've known you long enough to know all you've wanted in life is to be seen through the armor. It’s hell trying to get in there, trust me, and a few select people have been lucky enough to break through - myself, Santana, Jared…and yes, Blaine. Kurt, nobody knew you better when we were in high school. He came into your life right as you needed someone like him and took you out of the darkest moments, moments that even I ignored. He looked inside, saw every ounce of potential and talent you had, and he didn't just love you, he fucking _worshipped_ you. What you two had back then was…” Rachel pauses for a brief moment to collect herself. “Well, it was even more than Finn and I had.

“And you know what? Santana and I have told you for months now that you needed someone to get you back on your feet, to make you feel the love you need every moment. Call it fate, or destiny, or what have you, but Kurt? Don't hold back on Blaine now that you know it’s him. Don't deny that you've never stopped loving him, which Jared always knew and respected. Give him that second chance to become what you've always wanted.”

Kurt feels his heart pound heavier with every word Rachel says. He’s still in the midst of processing Blaine being back in his life, and here she’s bringing up love. It’s been twelve years since Blaine sat behind the piano at Callbacks and poured his broken soul into a song that had meant everything to Kurt, then proceeded to destroy every thread that held their hearts together in four seemingly simple words. Kurt can't still be in love. He moved on, he loved again, he married, he dreamt of a future with a good man by his side.

Yet the future was never realized and he’s now back at square one, connecting with someone in hopes that maybe a spark can ignite and bring him to a man that knows, understands, and trusts him beyond words. Blaine is that person; he was there from the first days, fighting Kurt’s fight to gain recognition from his peers. He was there when Kurt felt isolated and insecure in a new school, reminding him how to be himself in the structure and order that Dalton followed. Blaine was there as Kurt let his guard down in a tiny coffeeshop, letting the news sink in and reconcile with his own buried feelings until they bloomed into a romance fit for the movie screens. Even throughout the myriad of setbacks Kurt experienced his senior year, Blaine was always the one right next to him, guiding him to the next step with a gentle affection that could never be topped. Jared did what he could to support Kurt when things went wrong, but never to the extend Blaine did.

Then came the complete joy and excitement of the last few weeks as Kurt and Blaine unwittingly reconnected. He knows no matter what throwing the past month’s conversations out the window won't be easy, if possible at all. That thrill of being seventeen again, lying in bed in his new house and talking until early morning about nothing with his best friend - it’s still natural and comfortable. They've discussed secrets, fears, ambitions, and revealed as much about their lives as possible. It’s simple, it’s easy, it’s love.

Love. The word smothers Kurt he bolts off the stool in front of Rachel’s counter. “I can’t. I can't do this,” he repeats to himself until Rachel’s arms wrap around his waist. “I can't fall in love with him again. What if he cheats again? What if he _dies_ instead? You know my luck.”

“Sweetie, what did I just say?” Rachel’s brown eyes lock into his and he begins to regain some composure. “You never stopped loving him.”

“No, there’s no way. He hurt me, I loved Jared, that’s that.”

“Think about it, Kurt. Even with what happened, you never got the closure you needed from Blaine, which was why you and Adam didn’t last. By the time you and Jared got together so much time had passed that you didn't have a need to hold on to your past anymore. You pushed your feelings away so you could give everything to Jared, but it was never enough. Someone, somewhere knew your soulmate was not the man you married, and they wanted to bring you back to him in whatever way possible.”

Kurt vehemently shakes his head. “What am I supposed to do? Go up to him and say, ‘Oh, hey Blaine, I know we haven't seen each other in twelve years and I never forgave you for breaking my heart but hey, we've secretly been talking on a dating site for the last three weeks!’ I'm sure that’s going to go over well.”

“So take your time planning it,” Rachel says. “I know you’ll just try to avoid him completely and cut off all contact, but don’t. Take some time to work out what you want to say, what you want to ask him, and then plan your meeting. Even if you don't want to see him ever again, at least reschedule the date. It’s the least you owe him.”

“I don't owe him a god damn thing,” he cries out. Rachel sternly glares at him until he sighs and sits back in front of the now cold lo mein. “Okay. After next week, though.”

Rachel nods as she sits next to him. “That’s understandable.”

“Thank you for being here,” Kurt says before inhaling a forkful of noodles. “I don't know how I could have survived New York without you.”

“You've been here for me, too,” she replies.

“But promise you won't tell Santana this?”

“Cross my heart.”

* * *

_Are you feeling better?_

The message shows up a week later as Kurt is wrapped up his post-show wind down. After he mingles with the media and the A-list attendees, everyone other than Sheila is aware they are not to contact him unless in a dire emergency. While Jared was alive the two of them traditionally took off for a weekend in the Caribbean to enjoy the sun for what little Kurt could stand being outside without reapplying sunblock. Those trips are no longer appealing now, so he now holes up in his apartment after the show.

But since Blaine is unaware of Kurt’s communication cutoff for the week, let alone that it’s Kurt he’s speaking with, the text interrupts the quality time Kurt has been spending with a Sex and the City marathon. He freezes hearing the chime and nearly grins when he sees the question. It’s simple and caring, exactly the way Blaine was in high school.

_Much better, thank you. Sorry for the silence, been recovering then getting back into the groove of things._

_Understandable. Are you still up for the date?_

Oh, right, Kurt thinks. He knows he has to reveal himself and face their past at some point. Part of him considers meeting up later in the day after Blaine’s off work, but he knows he needs more time to prepare for the shock. _Sure am! How about Saturday, say 2:30?_

He doesn't realize he’s holding his breath in anticipation of Blaine’s answer until his phone lights up again. _Sounds great! I can't wait to finally meet you!_

_Me either. I don't know why but I have a feeling this is going to be a moment to remember._

_IKR? Anyway, back to healing the kiddies. Have a great afternoon, K!_

_You too, B!_ Kurt shuts his phone off afterwards. He knows Sheila won't contact him the rest of the week; all the reviews for the show were glowing and there’s no need for damage control on any pieces that didn’t hit. And he can take the next 48 hours to get ready for the inevitable.

When Saturday rolls around the butterflies Kurt’s been dreading finally take residence in his stomach. The only thing he’s able to stomach for breakfast is an entire pot of coffee, and he ends up forcing himself to head down to the corner deli for a panini before making the trek to Brooklyn.

The cab pulls up to the address Blaine gave him at 2:25. Kurt fishes a few twenties out of his wallet to give to the driver, ensuring he’s received a generous tip for the fare, and he steps out into the late summer sun. From the outside the shop looks quaint and homey, another homage to Blaine’s practical ways - he’d never been one to care for Starbucks, hence their twice weekly dates at the Lima Bean. Kurt considers entering the storefront until he notices a very familiar face crossing the next intersection. Blaine looks incredible, dressed down in fitted jeans and a deep gray polo. His hair is swept away as always but with a hint of the lovable curls trying to untame themselves, and the sunlight catches on his glasses, making his dark lashes even longer.

Kurt takes a deep breath and steps away from the door. “Blaine?” he says as his focus gets closer.

Blaine looks up; his jaw drops at the sight. “Kurt? Oh, my god!” He sprints closer and pulls Kurt tightly to him, locking him in a warm, familiar hug. “It’s so good to see you!” he finally says as he pulls away.

“You too!” Kurt exclaims. “So New York, huh?”

“I always said this city was my dream and I'd find my way here no matter what. And you, the king of the runway! What are you doing in this neck of the woods? You don't still live in Bushwick, do you?”

Kurt chuckles. “Oh, no. I have a fantastic place in Chelsea now. I could make my way closer to Central Park but there’s so many memories I’d be giving up…” He trails off, unsure how to address Jared properly.

“Yeah, I guess you're right,” Blaine says. “I’m sorry about your husband. When the news broke, it honestly hurt me to see you enduring another loss in your life.”

“Thank you. It’s been painful at times, but I think I've finally come out on the right side.”

“Wonderful.” Blaine glances at his watch and looks around. “You know, I'd love to catch up with you and find out how life is, but I'm actually meeting someone in a few minutes. Could you give me your number so we can chat sometime?”

Kurt bites his lip. “Actually, your, um...your date is already here.”

“What are you talking about?” Blaine asks.

“HeartKeys?” Kurt holds his hand out. “Hi, I’m KNicholas.”

The confusion in Blaine’s eyes makes way for pure shock as he realizes. “No. No. Please tell me this is all a joke.”

“I wish I could.”

“You…you’re K.” Kurt nods. “And you knew?”

“Not until you sent me your picture last week, no.”

Blaine runs his hands through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. “This can't be happening,” he mutters, barely loud enough for Kurt to hear. “I could not have spent the last month falling in love with my ex.”

“I’ve been telling myself the same thing,” Kurt says.

“Wait, so that bronchitis? Was that you bailing out?”

“It was me taking time to process.” He notices the anger boiling just below Blaine’s skin. “Look, Blaine, we can just get a coffee and talk, just like we planned, and then see what to do from there. I’m not in the greatest position, either. I mean, you were the one that, well…” Kurt trails off.

Blaine clenches his jaw, then relaxes and nods. “Yeah, you're right. We can do that.” He opens the door for Kurt to walk through, following behind and closing it.

“I’ll order if you want to find a table,” Blaine says as Kurt looks over the vast menu they offer.

“Oh, you don't have to do that. I was the one who mentioned meeting in the first place.”

“And I owe you for what happened twelve years ago. Let me?”

Kurt sighs. “Okay, fine.” Blaine grins slightly, a sign that maybe he’s not entirely opposed to discussing their breakup. He heads for the counter as Kurt makes his way to a low table between two comfortable lounge chairs. He sits down and sinks into the cushion with a sigh.

“And this is probably the number one reason I come here.” He opens his eyes a few minutes later as Blaine is offering a large cup to him. “I can relax here and get my mind off screaming kids for the evening.”

“I want these for my place,” Kurt replies. He takes a sip of coffee and nearly chokes on it at the hint of chocolate. “A nonfat mocha?”

“Some things you never forget,” Blaine smiles as he sits in the opposite chair.

“Blaine Anderson, how are you still the same person I met all those years ago?”

“Well, you only find perfection once in a blue moon.” When Kurt remains silent, Blaine sighs. “So, do you want to ask me why?”

Kurt looks at him out of the corner of his eyes. “Why what?”

“Why I cheated.”

“We can wait on that. I do want to know why you disappeared after Grease, though.”

Blaine sighs and sets his cup on the table. “Kurt, you know the biggest reason I had transferred to McKinley was to be with you. And after you came here, even with my assurance, I felt lost, alone, helpless - nobody in New Directions wanted to speak to me anymore - and the Warblers propositioned me into coming back.”

“And you did?” Kurt asks.

“No. Hunter, who was basically a more controlling, straight version of Sebastian, attempted to blackmail me into joining them right before sectionals. I did re-enroll in Dalton, but I couldn't join the Warblers.”

“Why not?”

“It was…” Blaine hesitates and reaches down to play with the cardboard insulator on his cup. “After we broke up, I felt like the joy I got from performing and singing was extinguished. The only reason I even auditioned for Grease was because Finn and Artie begged me to. I did it, but I was still a total wreck from what happened between us, and when they offered me Danny I just…lost it. There was no way in hell I could play lead in a love story after I ruined ours. So they cast me as Teen Angel instead, and it was fine until opening night when you and Rachel showed up. I had to push myself to get through it without fucking it up, and when we got off stage I immediately collapsed. Sugar had to hold me until the stage manager yanked her off to change for her next scene.

“And then later that night - that exchange in the hallway - my heart shattered again. I knew you'd never forgive me for what I did, and the first chance I had I ran away and never looked back.”

The story hit Kurt hard; he vividly remembers Blaine’s anxiety leading up to his confession that night, but he'd never considered just how bad the cheating had been on him, possibly even affecting Blaine more than it did Kurt. “So Dalton.” Blaine nods. “And Columbia.”

Blaine chuckles. “Yeah, I sort of lucked out applying to them for early admission right before we broke up. I even tore up the NYADA application two weeks after my transfer, and the letter of admission could not have come at a better time. And the last semester at Dalton I took a block of Anatomy and Physiology, which fascinated me and was really what led to me declaring premed.”

“I can bet,” Kurt replies. “What made you choose to specialize in pediatrics?”

“C’mon, kids! How could I not?” Blaine grins and blushes, as Kurt’s heart swoons remembering how carefree and youthful he could be. “I get to watch all these little people grow into young adults. Even in the three years I've been with the practice so many have changed so much it’s unbelievable.

“But,” he adds, “I think that music bug never fully went away. I have my job at the bar and it’s so fun. The nights go by quickly and I leave there knowing I made people happy with some amazing songs.”

Kurt goes for another drink of his coffee before realizing the cup is empty. “Wow, that was quick. I’m going to get a refill, okay?”

“Of course,” Blaine says.

“Awesome, I'll be back.” Kurt stands up and strolls over to replace his mocha. Just as he fishes his wallet out of his pants he eyes the baked goods sitting in the case. “Actually, can I get two coconut biscotti?” he requests. The barista nods and grabs them, exchanging them with Kurt’s debit card. After he signs and gets his drink, he returns to their table and gives the bag to Blaine. “Here you go,” he says.

Blaine peers inside and laughs. “You shouldn't have, Kurt.”

“You remembered my coffee order, I remembered your favorite treat.”

“Thank you,” Blaine says. He pulls one stick out and takes a small bite, savoring the sweet crunch. “So enough about my story, let’s move on to you. How'd you end up the star you are now?”

“Oh, I don't think it’s all that great a story,” Kurt sighs. “Working at Vogue was really what pushed me to apply to Parson’s for the winter rather than try again with NYADA. I started working on little designs for projects and getting A’s on all of them, and a year later a former student dropped by looking for an unpaid intern to help get his label off the ground.”

“And that was your husband?” Blaine asks.

“Yeah, it was Jared. I did it for a summer and he was so impressed with my work he offered me a full time position after graduation. And he was such an incredible man I honestly couldn’t help falling in love with him. I was offered half the label and the day my name landed on a piece he asked me to marry him.”

“Wow. How long were you married before…”

“It would have been three years that April,” Kurt says quickly. “I’m sorry, you know how I've always been about death and everything. And it was so sudden, too.”

Blaine reaches across the table and takes Kurt’s hand in his. “I really am sorry you lost him. You know, the first time I heard about NicholasHummel I knew right away you had a say in it, I just wasn't sure where Nicholas came from. Then I read up and…I was so happy you found someone. Sometimes I thought about how badly I'd hurt you and hoped you'd find someone who could treat you the way you deserve.”

“Blaine, don’t worry about it. It took me some time to get over you, but Jared helped immensely.”

“I've seen you a few times, you know,” Blaine says suddenly.

Kurt looks at him in shock. “What do you mean?”

“Five times in twelve years. I made it to your spring/summer 2019 show, the following fall/winter, fall/winter in 2022, and then, um, Tuesday’s show.”

“Seriously?” Kurt asks. “I can't believe you!”

“I may have owned a few of your designs over the years,” Blaine adds. “You're still an artistic genius, even if it’s not on the stage.”

“Wow.” Kurt sits in stunned silence. “But you only mentioned four shows. What was the fifth time?”

Blaine squeezes his hand a little harder. “At Finn’s funeral,” he breathes out.

“What?” Kurt whispers, attempting to hold back a few tears welling up. “You couldn't have been there. I looked over the guest book I don't know how many times in the week between that and returning to New York and never saw your name.”

“I couldn't bring myself to sign it. I didn't know how you'd react, or your dad, so I sat in the back of the parlor and said my goodbyes from there. The only people who saw me were Artie and Mercedes, and I made them promise not to mention it to anyone. Finn was important to me, too. There was no way I wasn't going to be there.”

“Well thank you anyway,” Kurt says. He finally returns Blaine’s squeeze and holds onto the hand for several minutes. It’s comforting, in a way he doesn't think he’s experienced in a number of years. Jared may have been a terrific husband and business partner, but his empathy was very low due to his familial relationships growing up. With Blaine, Kurt knew to expect the right words, the right reaction to something.

And once he realizes this, he knows he’s gone too far in their brief meeting. He let’s go of Blaine’s hand, takes the final gulp of coffee in his cup, and stands. “I should probably head back home. A late Saturday afternoon cab to Manhattan can be hell to experience.”

Blaine nods and stands with him. “Yeah, I bet.” They throw their waste out and exit the shop onto the street. After a beat of silence, he asks, “So what are we?”

Kurt shrugs. “I don't really know. Friends, I guess? As much as we’ve talked all month I feel like we’ve connected at least at that level.”

“Do you think there’s a chance of…I don’t know, more?”

“I’m not sure, Blaine,” he sighs. “Yes, we have this history and our chemistry was always through the roof. But even though it’s been twelve years and I’ve forgiven you for what happened, I don't know if I can trust you in that way again.”

Blaine’s face falls. “That’s understandable,” he says. “Text me when you get home, I guess? We can still spend time communicating until we decide what’s going to happen.”

“Of course,” Kurt replies, stepping to the curb to hail an oncoming taxi. When the driver pulls up he turns back to Blaine. “Have a good performance tonight.”

“I'll do my best. Enjoy your evening in.”

“I will.” He debates moving in for a hug before Blaine initiates it. They hold on to each other long enough that the driver beats his horn. Kurt lets go and opens the door. “See you later, Blaine.”

“You too, Kurt,” Blaine says. When Kurt is inside and gives the driver his address, he turns to wave to Blaine, who returns it with a smile all the way until they reach the next intersection and turn away.

* * *

Kurt shakes his umbrella free of raindrops and closes it as soon as he’s safe under the awning to Keynote Lounge. The bar looks very low-key from the outside, much to Kurt’s liking. He can't remember the last time he really went out and enjoyed himself for a night, especially as Jared was more of a homebody than him. But it’s Blaine’s thirtieth birthday and he wanted Kurt to be there to see him play tonight.

They're in a good place now; it’s much like the early days of their friendship, back when Kurt transferred to Dalton and was hopelessly in love with Blaine. They talk more frequently now, throughout Blaine’s lunch hour (than Kurt has taken as his the last two weeks) and the moment they're both home for the evening until one of them says it’s bedtime. Kurt has learned that Cooper quietly married his publicist and has twin daughters he’s terrorizing into acting lessons, and Blaine expressed his surprise that Santana has become one of Kurt’s closest friends and was the one to fill out the Manhattan Singles registration. Each day brings a new surprise to one of them, a reminder of the twelve years of silence they've broken just by looking for someone special.

The only part of their renewed closeness Kurt is unsure about, however, is their official status. They met for lunch the previous weekend and spent two hours laughing about old memories, but when it came time to depart they endured a lengthy hug. The discussion has weighed over their heads for a while, waiting for the moment where it can be breached without fear. Kurt knows how he feels about Blaine now and how it relates to before. All he wants to know is how Blaine feels.

He pays the cover and enters into the bar, leaving his umbrella at the coat check and heading for the main floor. It doesn't take long for him to spot Blaine’s bright, smiling face at the bar. “Hey, stranger,” he says, pulling him into another hug. “I was wondering when you'd show up.”

“Well, you know how I feel about making an entrance,” Kurt replies. He decides to be daring and peck Blaine’s cheek. “Happy birthday, Blaine. How’s it feel to be on the right side of your twenties now?”

“Pretty good, actually. Guess I get to take tips from you about old age again, huh?”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “I’m less than eighteen months older than you, that’s not that big a difference.”

“You're still the older one of us,” Blaine teases.

“Yet you're the one wearing glasses all the time and hiding a few gray hairs,” Kurt returns, smirking.

Blaine embarrassedly pats at his hair. “Hey, you try reading a few thousand-page books each semester for eight years and see how your eyesight treats you.”

“Isn't that why they created contact lenses?”

“Kurt, I'm not going to put anything in my eye and risk damaging it again.”

“Oh, right, sorry.” Kurt remembers those harrowing weeks where Blaine was half-convinced his eye would become infected and he'd lose it, needing to use a prosthetic one like Sammy Davis, Jr. for the rest of his young life. Apprehension over bringing his finger and a tiny, fragile disk near his pupil is understandable.

A few of the doctors from Blaine’s practice catch his eye and he leans into Kurt enough that the words tickle Kurt’s ear. “Hey, I’m going to say hi to everyone before I go to the back. I usually go on around 10:30 or so, so be ready to be blown away.”

The words run straight down Kurt’s spine, burning into him in a way he didn’t expect. “I'll be cheering you on,” he replies. Blaine grins and walks away, leaving Kurt to fend for himself.

The time waiting for Blaine to take the stage drags on. Kurt orders two vodka cranberries from the bartender and forces himself to stop after the second one - the last thing he needs tonight is intoxication hindering him enjoying a friend (and only a friend) perform. He watches the woman behind the keys first, Karen, and while she’s pleasant to listen to it’s nothing impressive. He texts Rachel, who insists on making sure every potential option for after the bar closes open. He considers bothering Santana, but that would require the revelation of HeartKeys’ identity to her and she will never let him live it down when that does happen.

Soon enough Karen takes her final bows and introduces “a fantastic performer and human being.” Blaine walks up, kisses Karen’s cheek, and takes his place on the piano bench. “Wow, look at you all tonight!” he exclaims. He brings his hands up to straighten his navy bow tie that is done over a tight red polo. The reasoning doesn’t pass Kurt by, and his breath hitches at the sight.

“I hope you're all ready to enjoy some music,” Blaine continues as he runs his fingers up and down the keys to warm them up. “It’s a very special night tonight, if the balloons don't tell you anything. It’s one of our birthdays - mine, in fact.” Kurt and the entire bar cheer for Blaine. “Thank you, everyone. I couldn't think of a better place or a better group of people to spend tonight with. So let’s get started, shall we?”

The first tune Blaine goes for is a jazzy version of Something’s Coming. Kurt chuckles at the memory of their first conversations after they reconnected, not knowing they were discussing the very same performance. The entire set is littered with familiar songs from Broadway, rock, and pop, many of them bringing more memories back to Kurt. The final song of the set is Hey Jude, and the patrons are drunkenly singing along from the first note all the way through every ‘na’ in the back half. When it ends the bar erupts in applause. Blaine stands and acknowledges the crowd, searching around until he finds an energetically clapping Kurt. Kurt watches Blaine’s face shift from exuberance into an unreadable expression.

“I hope you don't mind, but I want to play one final song,” Blaine says as everyone quiets down. “I nearly added this in when I was preparing my set tonight until I thought against it. But if I don't sing it now, I won't do it.

“You may not recognize it, I'll admit that. It’s a very personal song and it’s meant for someone special that’s here tonight.” He plucks the opening chords slowly and turns back to the bar where Kurt is frozen stiff. “I hope you feel the same way.”

Kurt isn't sure what to expect before Blaine begins singing. _”Do you know where your heart is? Do you think you can find it? Or did you trade it for something, somewhere better just to have it?”_

He vaguely recognizes the song; Blaine always talked about admiring Ryan Tedder’s songwriting abilities as well as his arms. Kurt focuses in and listens more closely. It’s a beautiful song filled with longing and want. Blaine looks over to him nearly every other line, but it’s when he reaches the chorus the second time that hits Kurt.

_”Say, all I need is the air I breathe and a place to rest my head. Do you think you can find it? Better than you had it?”_

Blaine is laying his heart on the line for Kurt, who despite their history, their breakup, their decade apart and in other relationships, is willing to take it. He’s been fighting the feelings all month to no avail; Kurt Nicho...no, Kurt Hummel is, and has never stopped being, in love with Blaine Anderson. The weight that’s been hindering him has been lifted and he suddenly can’t breathe. He barely remembers the roar of applause at the end as he rushes out of the bar and into the pouring rain to calm down.

It isn't long before he hears the door slam open. “Kurt, what are you doing?” Blaine asks, pulling him back under the awning. “You're going to get sick out here.”

Kurt pulls away. “Yeah, well that’s better than what I'm feeling right now,” he snaps.

“What the hell is your problem? I sang that for you, you know?”

“I figured that out pretty quickly.”

“Oh, my god, do I need to spell it out for you or are you even denser than I was that first Valentine’s Day? I love you, Kurt, I’ve _always_ loved you. Do you know why I never found anyone in eleven years living here? Because every guy I dated? Every guy I slept with? I kept comparing them to you. And two weeks ago after we had coffee? I felt like my life had been renewed because you were back in it. But damn it, Kurt, I can't lose you again. It will physically kill me.”

Kurt glares at a now-soaked Blaine. “What, like you nearly killed me after you told me you fucking cheated on me? It took me months to finally feel I could move on, and even that was short-lived because I was so scared the same thing would happen. But he left me here and moved back to London, and I found Jared and was happy. I was so happy and I swore I was over you.

“So what happened? He died. Just like my mom, just like Finn. Every one I've ever loved in my life has either passed on or destroyed me. And the one person who has ever made me feel a hundred percent comfortable with who I am and what I do before his brain short-circuited suddenly storms back into my life.” Kurt takes a few slow breaths to keep from sobbing. “And the worst part is that as much as I’ve wanted to cut you off? As much as I thought ‘hey, let’s be friends and see if we're compatible with other people’? My heart is screaming louder, because I can't do anything but love you more than ever.”

“Yet you tried to run away,” Blaine chokes out through his own tears. His hair has turned into a mess of dark, drenched ringlets that fall over his forehead, leaving raindrops all over his glasses.

“I can't let you hurt me again, Blaine,” Kurt says. “I love you but I'm scared. I’m scared that you'll cheat again and leave me alone, or that I'll lose you before I'm ready to. And I can't handle that.”

“You're not going to lose me,” Blaine replies.

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

Blaine closes the gap between them, grabs Kurt’s shoulders in desperation, and pulls him into a steamy kiss that demolishes every doubt Kurt had. He’s never felt passion like this before as every nerve in his body flares up with want and need. Even when Blaine pulls back he whimpers at the loss of electricity.

“Kurt, I…” Blaine begins before Kurt shakes his head and cuts him off.

“I know you won't,” he says.

Blaine chuckles, a smile lighting up his now less tense face. “How did you know what I was going to say?”

“Because I know you. I know you learned your lesson then.”

“I did. And I promise that I’m never, ever going to leave you alone. Say, for at least the next fifty years.”

“Good,” Kurt smiles, “because I seem to remember saying at one point that I'd never say goodbye to you.”

“I seem to remember that as well,” Blaine says. He hugs Kurt and kisses his temple. “I’m thinking that we should probably take this somewhere drier at some point.”

Kurt nods. “Back inside? I’m sure the party’s still going strong for you.”

“No, I was thinking more along the lines of some place with a bed?” Kurt gasps, which sends Blaine into more laughter. “Hey, it’s my birthday and I have a lot of reuniting to do with you.”

“That it is. Just let me get my umbrella first, okay?”

“Of course, I have some stuff still in the office.” Blaine takes Kurt’s hand and walks back to the entrance, explaining to the doorman that his boyfriend (and oh, how Kurt’s heart swells at that word out of his mouth) is on the list now and can come back in. They enter and Blaine whispers in Kurt’s ear, “I love you. Be back in a minute.”

“Love you, too.” Kurt kisses Blaine and waits for him to return, ready to embark on a long-forgotten path with him.

* * *

“You guys, I'm so glad you're here!” Alison glomps onto Kurt and Blaine she and Santana enter the reception area. “How amazing is this? I’m married!”

Kurt gently pulls her off them and pats her shoulder. “Yes, and you have to remember you’re wearing a NicholasHummel bridal exclusive with only two gowns produced in the line, so you better not be wrinkling it at all tonight.”

“You're no fun,” Alison pouts. “Blaine, you were supposed to make him more fun.”

Blaine just smiles and inches close enough to wrap his arm around Kurt’s waist. “I don't know, I think he’s been having plenty of fun with me,” he says with a wink.

“Ugh, seriously, this is my wedding,” Santana interrupts as she reaches them and hugs her friends before planting a juicy kiss on her wife. “Can't you at least wait until the parentals are gone before you two dirty dance or whatever you call it?”

“Don't worry, Santana, we'll be doing plenty of that this coming week.”

“Perverts,” she mutters, shaking her head and causing everyone to burst out laughing.

“Why, Mrs. Becker, aren't you the pot calling the kettle black?” Kurt asks.

“God, I'm so glad you two are going to Hawaii and not South Beach with us. I need to enjoy my wife without your schmoopy flirtation making me nauseous.”

Kurt turns to Blaine. “Wait, Hawaii?”

He shrugs. “Surprise, I guess?”

Kurt doesn't know what to think. He assumed Blaine had a grand plan to celebrate another victorious yes stressful Fashion Week and keep his mind off the impending anniversary of Jared’s death. He hadn't been aware that an actual trip had been involved in this. “When were you going to tell me?”

“Tomorrow night for our anniversary dinner,” Blaine says.

“It’s not our anniversary,” Kurt quips.

“Yes it is. It’s Valentine’s Day, remember? Six months ago today I first messaged you...well, so I thought at the time.”

“Oh, wow,” he whispers. He’s been so stressed the last several weeks between the fall designs and making Santana and Alison’s gowns it never hit him.

Blaine squeezes his hip. “Don't worry, we'll have plenty of time to celebrate,” he smiles.

Alison pulls Blaine away from Kurt. “Okay, B, come on. I want my parents to meet my best friend.”

Kurt watches them walk away and he hears Santana chuckle. “Are you ever going to thank me for bringing him back to you?” she asks.

“You’re wearing a $16,000 bridal gown for free. I think that’s enough thanks.”

Much to Kurt’s surprise, Santana was ecstatic when he finally brought Blaine to her annual Halloween party. She admitted that she always admired how strongly they loved each other in high school and how they were a huge factor in her feeling okay to come out. Of course she denied it in the midst of her hangover the next morning, but it was something Kurt would always hold over her. Blaine and Alison bonded immediately over their private school backgrounds and now have coffee dates every Sunday morning. It’s refreshing to know he’s still one of them after all this time.

Rachel makes her way over to them. “There you two are,” she says. “Where are the other halves?”

“Showing off their tricks to Alison’s parents,” Santana replies. “Where’s your date?”

“He claimed he was coming down with the flu and didn't even show up.” Rachel kicks off her black pumps and leans into Kurt. “When is it my turn?”

Kurt smiles at her. “Well, you can always try online dating. I've heard it’s worked for many couples.”

“And who would I meet, Jesse St. James? Why else am I boycotting auditioning for any of his shows?”

“Hey, don't worry about it. Whenever you find the one, you damn well know Frankenteen’s going to be looking down, and he'd be thrilled that you found someone who makes you happy, just like Jared is over Hummel and Warbler now.”

Kurt flushes pink. “Thanks, Santana.”

“I'm serious,” she replies. “And I better get to be maid of honor this time.”

“Nope, that’s my position,” Rachel counters.

They argue long enough that it confuses Blaine when he returns with two glasses of wine. “Do I even want to know?” he asks.

Kurt takes one from Blaine’s hand and sips it. “They're arguing over our wedding.”

Blaine’s eyes widen. “You didn't tell them, did you?” he asks in a low voice

“Of course not.” Kurt smiles, his mind flashing back to Blaine down on one knee with an engagement ring two nights before backstage after his show. “Santana would go full-on bridezilla if I ruined the day.”

“Good. I can't wait to see the ring on you next week, and nothing else.”

“Not even you?”

“I guess that can be an exception,” Blaine says, adding a kiss at the end.

“And there they go again with the lovey-dovey shit,” they hear Santana complain. Kurt doesn't care, though; he has everything he’s ever needed now.


End file.
